


With enough thrust even dead birds can fly again.

by youngjusticewriter



Series: Yeah, I wish I’d been a, wish I’d been a teen, teen idle. [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman Beyond, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Batfamily Feels, Dead Robins Club, Gen, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Mix of Universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-09 00:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjusticewriter/pseuds/youngjusticewriter
Summary: The sound of her slap reverberates around the Cave.Steph closes her eyes. 'Cause seriously shouldn't it be awkward silent (as in you could hear crickets or a pen drop) considering what she just did?Let it be put it on her gravestone that Stephanie Brown is dead, again, because she slapped the Godd*mn Batman because he was being a d*ck. Which really isn't a shocker least not to her because he's always been somewhat of an *sshole to her but he had been a d*ck to his son who he just recently learnt wasn't any longer dead.She wonders if she'll actually stay dead this time or if she'll just crawl out of her grave like Buffy agai-Her thoughts are interrupted by Jason choking on his laughter. Steph's cheeks flush. This is what she gets by defending him? Her hand itches to slap Jason as well.Maybe slapping these two idiots (yes she loves Jason like the older brother she never had but he was still an idiot to her) would get some blood and common sense following.(Or, Steph and Damian join Jason in coming back to Gotham in Under the Red Hood but sadly nothing goes as planned when the Joker is involved.)





	1. Part One.

The sound of her slap reverberates around the Cave. 

Steph closes her eyes. 'Cause seriously shouldn't it be awkward silent (as in you could hear crickets or a pen drop) considering what she just did? 

Let it be put it on her gravestone that Stephanie Brown is dead, again, because she slapped the Goddamn Batman because he was being a dick. Which really isn't a shocker least not to her because he's always been somewhat of an asshole to her but he had been a dick to his son who he just recently learnt wasn't any longer dead. 

She wonders if she'll actually stay dead this time or if she'll just crawl out of her grave like Buffy agai-

Her thoughts are interrupted by Jason choking on his laughter. Steph's cheeks flush. This is what she gets by defending him? Her hand itches to slap Jason as well. 

Maybe slapping these two idiots (yes she loves Jason like the older brother she never had but he was still an idiot to her) would get some blood and common sense following. 

\- 

(Several months earlier.)

\- 

Steph glares at Jason's pancakes. She can't look at Jason because they both have become scary good at reading each other. 

"This is what I get for introducing you to Game of Thrones," she quips without any humor in her voice. 

Jason snorts into his black cup of coffee. 

Steph runs a hand through her recently dyed hair. She feels far older than the teenager she is. Gone was perky teenage blonde that only spoke in sarcasm in her place was black hair dyed late teenager that felt worn to her bones that would occasionally let loose a quip. 

She knew that killing people was inevitable if she joined Jason on his return to Gotham as the Red Hood. She still joined him though and honestly she didn't mind the Joker dying. She gets where Jason is coming from but she sincerely doubts Bruce will. 

"Fine," she consents. Because they're partners in this. That had been one of her conditions in joining Jason. 

Steph nibbled on her bottom lip that still  
tastes like the syrup that had been on her waffles. 

She briefly wonders if it's because of who she is (her being just like him) that he had agreed to her terms. 

"But it can't be just because they're the second hand to the eight drug dealers we want on our side. They have to do have done something else to deserve this." This. That is how she's referring to decapitation. God what had happened to her? Oh yeah she died and she came back like this. 

Wrong and tired. 

Now it's Jason turn to glare except he doesn't glare at the plate that once held her waffles he just outright glares at her. 

He wants to get this started. He had held back several years because of her resurrection. Her coming back to life had changed his plans as well as delay his revenge. 

(Then there was the whole Talia and Ra's al Ghul thing that still gave Steph the creeps and she wasn't the one that had kissed Ra's and possibly had sex with.) 

But despite his grumbling Steph knows Jason is happy that she's here with him. 

That he isn't alone anymore and that's what pseudo siblings were for after all besides you know digging up by your grave so you don't have to go through digging out of your own grave like he had. 

"Tt-tt," was Damian's response to her condition. 

Steph fought hard to keep herself from rolling her eyes at the kid that Steph could sometimes swear that he had walked out of those old novels that Jason was so fond of. (She would take a Harry Potter book any day thank you very much.) she didn't need to teach Damian any more bad behavior than the poor kid had been raised in. 

"We have the time. No one knows and they won't till we want them too." She gives him a small smile that drops a second later. Jason reaches out and grabs her hand to anchor himself. It makes Steph smile again but her smile is small and not as bright as it once was. 

Jason may not be her blood family but he was all she had. What was it that Bobby from Supernatural always said? 

Family don't end with just blood boy. 

Jason and Damian (even though the kid was brat) was all the family Steph had now and she was okay with that. 

She could live again if she had them with her. 

\- 

Steph watched from above the best street dealers of Gotham argued like children. It along with the smell that was coming from the duffle bag of heads was starting to make her sick. 

She almost was regretting coming but she had promised Jason she would always have his back. Even when he has the high ground and an AK-47. Plus someone needed to be there to hold Jason back if he went too far. 

"The hell with this. I'm gone. You brain donors want to sit around and -" the Gotham street dealer that had been smoking only a few minutes earlier in the normally abandoned warehouse was interrupted by Jason. 

All the street dealers scrambled like cockroaches to take cover as bullets flew into their table. 

Jason stepped into the light donned in his Red Hood armor with his smoking AK-47 held up in his hand left hand. "It's my meeting. I invited you." 

"You wanna die?! There're easier ways to kill yourself!" One of the bodyguards of the eight drug dealers yelled at Jason as he had his boss leaning on him. 

"And what is this shit?!" One of the street dealers yelled in outrage. 

Steph winced at the so called brain donors. Not because she cared about them and their well being but because of how stupid some of them were acting towards Jason who already held a special place in his heart for hating drug dealers. 

Jason voiced the stupid thing they were doing perfectly. "Yeah. Like yelling at the guy who's holding the AK-47. Listen to me, you drug peddling dirtbags. You eight are the most prosperous street dealers in town." 

Jason paused letting his backhanded compliment sink in before going on. 

"Me and my partner are offering you a deal. I will be running the drug trade from now. You will go about your business as usual. You will kick up forty percent to me. That is much better deal than the Black Mask will give you. In return you will have total protection from both Black Mask and Batman. The catch? You stay away from kids and school yards. Got it? If you do, you're dead." 

Steph started walking silently towards Jason with the duffle bag in her hand. Sure her suit could teleport (which was really freakin cool, Steph still was not over how cool this stolen suit was) but using teleporting drained the Xenothium in the belt more than anything. 

"Okay, crazy man. This is all very generous but why in the hell should we listen to you?" Asked one of the men below them. 

Steph finally entered into the light. Right by Jason's side with the dufflebag unzipped. Before her training with the League of Assassins Steph would have puked at the sight below her. 

It was a good thing she had been trained because puking at this moment would destroy any respect and fear they needed the street dealers to hold Jason and her in. 

She threw the duffle bag down onto the bullet riddled table. Some of the heads rolled out of the bag. Steph noted the queasy looks on some of the drug dealers.  
One even covered his mouth with his hand. 

"Damn," one of them said before looking up at them with new found respect on his face. 

"As you can see the duffle bag contains the heads of all your lieutenants. That took us two hours. You want to see what we can do in a whole evening?" 

This had been Jason's original plan: the heads of all their lieutenants. But Steph had wanted the heads of eight drug dealers that had done something far worse than just be lieutenants to these men and woman. In the end they both gotten what they wanted. The lieutenants had all had done something worse than just sell drugs. 

Helped a cousin with human trade, selling to kids, rape, child abuse. That was only naming half. 

Steph hadn't felt bad about killing them after Jason had shown his meticulous research to her. And to Damian who refused to be left out anymore of their plotting. If he couldn't be on the field (both Jason and Steph refused) he would play a role in plans. Damian really was Bruce's son. You could tell by the apparent family trait: stubbornness that rivaled that of a mule. 

"Make no mistake. I'm not asking you to kick in with us. I'm telling you," Jason said before shooting another round of ammo. 

"Forty percent works for me," one the drug dealers croaked out once Jason was finished with shooting at their table and the heads of their lieutenants. 

"Damn skippy," was the reply of his companion.

Steph didn't bother to contain her snort of dry amusement.


	2. Part Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another look into what's to come, Alfred blackmails his family to be together during this time, Dick comes back to Gotham.

She, in the end, is the one to find Jason. It's not surprising. They have always been too much a like for their own good and that's what got them into this. 

He's Indian style on the wet grass and is watching the sun rise with a half empty bottle of vodka. Steph notes his red eyes and instead of being the first one to say something she just sits down next to him. Not giving a damn about the recently rained on grass dirtying up the burrowed shorts that was closest to her size Alfred could find for her. 

Steph hates how peaceful, how freaking serene, how beautiful the world looks (espically the rising sun and mix of colors in the sky) when her and everyone's life was anything but peaceful. 

She silently motions for Jason to pass her the bottle. She needs it especially after last night. 

After coming back to life Steph has never really tried any booze unlike Jason. Fancy or cheap she's always turned the alcohol down. She had wanted to wait till she was of age. She had wanted something to look forward to. Another reason to stride to keep living. Even if the reason was stupid. 

"It wasn't suppose to end this way," Jason tells her. He sounds broken (How many times could he break and still keep going Steph wondered in the back of her mind. How many could they all?) instead of angry. 

The alcohol burns going down but hey least she could feel pain? If she felt pain she was still alive. Black Mask had taught her that personally. 

"No it wasn't," she agrees. But what had they been excepting? This was Gotham. 

"A kid. Just a fucking kid and he was destroyed worse than we were." 

No Steph wouldn't cry. She couldn't start balling her eyes out because if she did she might not stop and she was needed. Someone besides Alfred had to help the others. Hell, someone needed to comfort the kind grandfatherly butler as well. 

"We all were kids in the end weren't we? And the world never cared so why should it now?" Steph asked Jason. Her voice soft instead of hoarse like it should be. 

She should be breaking down or blowing up. She shouldn't be this fucking calm. 

This numb. (She morbidly wonders if Black Mask was capable of torturing her with everything but the kitchen sink again would it hurt as much as she remembered?) 

But while Jason had came out angry (which he had every right to) Steph had came out wrong. Colder and old in soul instead of bubbly and bright like she once. 

Maybe people were right. Somethings should stay dead. 

\- 

(Several months before.) 

\- 

Wayne Manor. Alfred Pennyworth had served the Manor's inhabitance for a very long time. 

The house that has for a long time sat in shadow. For such a long time that even Alfred himself was having a hard time remembering it not being in a constant state of mourning. Of proverbial mirrors draped in pitch black cloth. 

Death it seemed was a constant companion of this family and it's members. Rather by blood or adoption, Alfred added mournfully. 

Of course, Alfred was having time remembering the days of gay laughter and light in the Manor because of the years that slowly crept by with the speed of a snail not because of his age.

Alfred was not just yet to allow his age effect his life. Some would say that this was his job but they would be tremendously in error. This was not just a job for Alfred (if it was than the deaths in the family would not hurt as much as they did despite the time that had past). No, this was Alfred's life. The Wayne's were his family albeit not by blood. 

And that is why sometimes he must make interventions when Master Bruce and Master Richard were being stubborn men. 

Honestly, if anyone in this household had the right to be stubborn as an old man it should be Alfred himself but alas Master Bruce was never the one to stick to the norm. 

His nightly activities being the main evidence for how divergent Master Bruce was to his fellow elite of Gotham higher class. Master Dick, of course, fellowing in his guardian's footsteps despite his vehement claims to be nothing like Master Wayne. 

Alfred needed help pulling Master Bruce from his work that it felt like he married during this week because of how obsessive he was. Sticking his head in work so not to notice (but failing miserably) what week it was. The week he lost a son. A son not a soldier as Master Bruce claimed. 

Master Dick needed to be here. To be apart to this time of mourning. Alfred knew Master Richard was still not over being informed of his younger brother's funeral while he was off world. 

Which Alfred had play a hand in. 

He had been so shaken by grief and shock (So young, Master Jason, the boy who loved chili dogs that dripped grease as much as Alfred loved a warm cuppa with some honey and freshly squeezed lemon juice, had been so young. Too young.) that he had assumed that Master Bruce would inform Master Richard of the tragic events. 

That had been a mistake that made the drift between Masters Richard and Bruce to become a chasm. 

Alfred closed his weary eyes. As much as he wished Master Richard would come home by his own volition he sincerely doubted it. 

So that's why he had taken Master Tim's advice about getting his way. About getting his family together during this time. It wasn't black mail mind you. It was merely the stick instead of the carrot. 

If Alfred couldn't get his family to willingly be together under one roof during this time then he would give them some incentive. Thankfully Master Tim was willing to give Alfred the information he needed to get Master Richard to come home in exchange for coffee rights. 

\- 

It's been said that all roads lead to Rome. 

When it comes to information it travels on many roads. Sometimes it predictably. Like the tide of the ocean. You just need to know when to stand on the shore to meet it. 

Other times it was elusive and Bruce had to root through the garbage to find it. 

Sam Barnes had been a difficult man to find. That with what week it was didn't make Bruce feel any empathy as the dark skin man screamed out that he didn't know anything about the new guys that had somehow managed to control the best street dealers of Gotham City. 

Maybe he didn't maybe he did but Bruce would be sure to get the truth.

"I will drop you if you keep lying," he growled at the man before slightly loosing his grip. 

The fall wouldn't kill the man. Injury and more than likely need a clinic visit afterwards was another story especially if the man made him drop him onto the garbage bens multiple times. 

"I swear on my mother's grave I don't know nothin," Sam screamed out barely to be heard by the sounds of Gotham City's usual sluggish night traffic.

Bruce would have raised an eyebrow (that wouldn't have been seen because of the cowl) if this type of behavior by criminals still surprised him. 

"Your mother is still alive Barnes," he growled out unamused. 

Alive though divorced from her second husband (who was Sam Barnes' father) and had been diagnosed with cancer. Ironically she was the always kind and brightly smiling personal assistant (or more comely known as an secretary) to Lucius who never once flirted with Bruce like most personal assistants at Wayne Enterprise did. 

This apple had indeed fallen far from it's tree. 

"Well I swear on her soon to be grave!" The man retorted in frustration obviously forgetting who he had just yelled at. 

The same person that could drop him from off this roof any second and that's what Bruce did. Barnes fell into the trash bins with a satisfying crunch. 

Barnes should be thankful that his mother was still alive. Not everyone had the gift that this man had. 

Pearls thrown to swine came to Bruce's mind as his ward, Dick Grayson, landed softly on the brick apartment building. 

"Warm night," Dick simply told him. His ward's face tilted trying to read what mood he was in. 

"Yes," Bruce agreed. "Unreasonable so. This time of year makes them careless. Comfort makes them careless." 

"I don't know what's worse. The fact we're talking about the weather...or the fact that you could time a dime into crime fighting. You sure you don't have some magic?" Dick quipped at him. His tone easy going as it often was but on few occasions. 

"What are you doing here? Checking up on me?" He asked his former sidekick who knew better than to make small talk with him - especially on the job. 

Dick hummed at him as they watched as Barnes scrambled off the garbage pins and starting running off. 

Out of alley as fast as he could as if that would be enough to prevent Bruce from tracking his stoner ass done again or even preventing him from recapturing the man again. 

"That's exactly one of the two reasons why I'm here. Agent A wants us all together during this time. Initially I refused telling him that I was busy with work but then Agent A started talking about one of the two cases that you've been working on. Guess which one?" Dick asked him despite the fact they both knew which case he was talking about. 

Bruce could handle the Joker who had recently broken out of the new Arkham Asylum and who'd resurface like he always did. Like a child being ignored too long would do bad things on purpose to get their parent's attention. 

"Bludhaven is your home and you work in Jump City with Robin on occasions now. Where does Gotham enter into this?" 

Dick snorted at him as he jumped to the next building with ease that came from years of practice. Following Barnes to see where he would go to when he thought he had gotten away from the Batman. 

"It is when Red X is involved. Especially when he's never been a team player until now. And it's good to see you too during this time." 

"I'm working a cases. If you like to stay... I won't stop you." 

"The warmth is overwhelming," was Dick's sarcastic reply. 

"Unseasonably so," he dryly drawled out. 

"Good God, he made a joke." 

"Be quiet," Bruce ordered. 

"Yes sir." And here Bruce had been told teenagers were suppose to be the ones hard to handle. Not the young adults.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm going ahead and telling you this. I just started reading comics about two years ago latter in this year it will be three. I love Stephanie Brown but finding any comics about her prior to New 52 & Rebirth is frankly a pain the ass. From what I can tell Under the Red Hood (which is the comic most of this story is based on) takes place soon after War Games (aka when Steph dies) because of this I had to delay Jason's return to Gotham as the Red Hood. 
> 
> In this storyline: After finding out about Steph's death (which I'm going to assume that in the comics Jason never learnt of her because he never mentions her in Under The Red Hood unlike Barbara who he mentions in his speech) Jason comes back to Gotham to check on Steph's grave because Ra's, Talia, and him never found out what brought him back to life and he doesn't want another kid Bruce has failed to avenge have to go through what he had. (Read "Forget you I will not (my fellow dead Robin)" then "Don't bury me. Don't let me down.") Steph comes back to life and Jason postpones coming back to Gotham as the Red Hood to help Steph and so that when she's finished with her training they can come back to Gotham. Damian gets added to this mix but the story behind that will be explained in the next part of the series. Though if you payed real close attention and watched Batman Beyond you might have an clue.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Godfather reference, a pet, Tim figures something out.

It wasn't suppose to happen like this, Jason thinks as he stares at the curled up girl that reeked of death and had hair the color of the sun itself. 

All the adrenaline had melted away from getting to face, to fight, to accuse, to confront Bruce of crimes. (He would send Thomas Elliot a fruit basket once this was all done.) To go ahead and punish his and Stephanie's replacement even though he hadn't returned to Gotham, to home for becoming the Red Hood but because of another death of a Robin. 

 

He had been digging up her grave for year. Every single night he dug up her grave, opened her coffin, and waited just in case by some chance she would come back like he had. 

Except it wouldn't be like what he had been through. She wasn't suppose to dig her way through her coffin and the earth that kept her from breathing in fresh air but she had. 

He hadn't given up on her. It had just been   
time to leave, to finish his training so he could avenge them when no else would. 

After he confronted Bruce pretending to be Hush to screw with his emotions so Thomas could get into Bruce's head he had planned to leave that, this actually, night but something, a tugging in his stomach, had made Jason visit Stephanie Brown's grave one last time. 

And here he was now. 

He made his way towards her with the speed one approached a scared animal. 

"I'm sorry," he apologizes sincerely in his softest voice. His fellow "soldier" still jerked her head up at the sound despite how quiet his voice had been. Her eyes were so empty. It made Jason unsettled;   
had his been so empty as well?

"It's not okay but it will become better," he promised her, still sincere. This kid, who had already managed to claim a spot in Jason's admitly toxic heart (because she was so much like him and had his fate)   
didn't deserve a lie not after everything she had been through. 

There was no comprehension in her eyes at his words, at his promise to her. 

Jason shallowed harshly before he picked her up bridal style and started carrying her to his car. 

She wiggled in his arms in protest immediately and, instead of screaming, she made weak sounds of protest. Maybe why she wasn't screaming was because she couldn't. 

He gently, despite her weak attempts of freeing herself, set her in the passenger seat not caring at all about the expensive leather in the car even after he noted her bleeding and splittered hands. 

After buckling up her he looks Steph in the eye and repeats his words from earlier; that it's not okay and it never will be okay again but it would get better. Jason would make sure of that. 

\- 

(Several years later.) 

-

It's flee infested, malnourished, and it's right ear has been chewed on. It's appalling to look and it smells like trash which makes Damian wrinkle his noise. 

There was no logical reason why Damian should take pity on this feline that had cried a ruckus on the alley below they're apartment. But for some reason the creature has "tugged on his heart strings" as ستيفاني would say. 

It's not beautiful pet or even a fierce one but it's a survivor (the cat's ear being proof). A survivor of the streets of Gotham that was modern Sodom that his father protected and watched over. 

It will do, Damian thought as he checked the the feline sex. 

It was a male. 

Thankfully so, because Damian believed his chances of keeping it as a pet would be diminished completely if it was with a litter. 

And if جايسون and ستيفاني (who were Damian's older siblings despite the fact they had no blood that they shared) voiced any complaints then he would simply point out that he needed some form of entertainment since he was not allowed out on the field despite the fact his abilities surpassed theirs when they had been Robin. 

Damian had always wanted a pet; a loyal companion at his side. He had only had one so far in his life....

When he had been six years of age he had been gifted a canary for his birthday by his mother after he had requested an animal companion a few months prior. 

Three seasons later his grandfather ordered him to snap it's neck pretty yellow neck because it's singing had begun to irritate the Demon's Head. (When all actuality it had been a test of loyalty.) 

Damian for the first time in his life he had refused his grandfather. Damian had told him he would carry the bird elsewhere so the bird could not further give his grandfather a headache. 

Refusing the Demon's Head had been a mistake. A mistake that Damian still wished today he had been punished for instead of his innocent companion. 

The next morning Damian had woken up to the decapitated head of his canary. It's warm blood staining his sheets and his shoulder. 

He never wanted to ask for another pet until now. Surely with his grandfather gone he could have a pet? 

\- 

Too slow of reaction speed along with underestimating the mugger. That's what got him Cave duty (the bat equivalent of grounding) during patrol this year. 

Every year during this week or even a few days before it Bruce would always find something that made him give Tim Cave duty while it was the week of Tim's predecessor's death. 

He never called Bruce out on it but it didn't mean Tim appreciated the yearly habit especially in the past few years since Steph's death. 

Steph who never got her Robin suit memorial in the Cave like the second Robin, Jason Todd who was Tim's predecessor, had. 

Tim sighed before running his hands through hair that would soon need a cut; something Alfred was politely but persistently hounding him about already. 

He took a sip of his still miraculously warm cup of coffee as he read through the hacked Police files that Oracle had given to Bruce to look through because both the Justice League and Birds of Prey needed her help on something asp. 

It was going to be a long night, Tim grimly realized. He took a sip of the coffee Alfred had given him.

He closed his eyes and savored the taste. 

Least he had caffeinated coffee which was better than nothing whilst decaf was worse than nothing. 

\- 

"Remind me how you convinced me to let Damian keep the cat," Jason asked as he and Steph walked down an aisle of a run down pet store in the Narrows at two in the morning. When he could have been asleep in bed right now. 

But Jason had been out voted by Damian and Steph when it came to feeding the cat some human food for the night - well, early morning and shopping for some cat food latter in the morning. Despite the fact the cat had lived in the streets therefore had to have eaten some dumped human food in the trash cans in the past.

Steph hummed instead of replying as she stoped in front of the canned cat food so she could compare the different brands. 

"It's going to be good for him just like the bouncy house in Paris was. To have someone dependent on him and it's normal for a kid to have a pet at his age. He needs to have something normal in his life especially when you remember he just recently learnt his mother has been dead the moment Ra's went all invasion of body snatchers on her. He's not as okay with Talia's death as he pretends he is." 

Jason glanced at Steph from the corner of his eye. While she wasn't white knuckling the cans of food she was still comparing that didn't mean she was okay. She was the best liar of the trio of siblings; that was an accomplishment when one considered Jason had been trained by Bruce longer than her and the League of Assassins while Damian was just trained by the League of Assassins since, probably, before the poor kid started walking. If Jason had to bet why that was he would have to go with Steph's belief of 'fake to you make it.' 

Jason loudly exhaled through his noise. Knowing there was nothing he could do was something Jason hated. While he wasn't a control freak (like a certain billionaire who spent his nights dressing up as a giant bat) that didn't mean Jason didn't like being in control. 

But he couldn't control this and as much as this was hurting Steph (Just because she didn't show it didn't mean Jason was idiot.) it was his right to take away. A part of life was pain. It, along with guilt, were inevitable. She had killed and, yes, Ra's had surely deserved his bucket kicked a long time ago and a terrible person who tried to (as Steph would say) go all invasion of the bodies snatchers on Damian but she had still killed (and was killing again for him). 

Ra's had been Steph's first kill to be exact.   
And now it was just another thing that separated her from her life before, who she had once been before. She had never killed before she had died. While Jason... 

Garzonas' name still left a bitter taste in his mouth after all these years- after fucking dying. It wasn't fair, Jason thought as he grimaced, but then again when was life fair? Especially in Gotham City it wasn't fair (hell, that word was as good as foreign to Gotham) and never would be. 

He shook his head. He was too tired to deal with this but, then again, he had too tired to pick up cat stuff and here he was. 

Jason honestly was fine with Damian keeping the cat but he, still, however was not over the fact Steph had dragged (with Damian's biting encouragement) him to a pet store for cat food (At two in the fucking morning!) when all he wanted to do was fall into his bed after obtaining the green kryptonite with his sister's help. 

Jason Peter Todd did not have the boundless energy that the natural blonde, that was currently dyed black, had once been infamous for. Hell, he didn't even have the youthful energy that he use to have when he had been a teenager and he was just a young adult. 

Dying did that to you apparently. 

Steph finally choose a brand of canned cat food and put several of it in the buggy before leading the buggy to the pet toys aisle.

Jason somehow managed to follow after her despite the exhaustion he was feeling.   
He was not buying any waffles (or French toast in Damian's case) for his siblings latter in the morning (or afternoon, it honestly depended on how long Steph took shopping for that damn cat) because of this. 

"What is with my younger siblings being so good at manipulation?" Jason asked Steph jokingly. Only having to yawn twice during his question. "First Damian pointing at that me of all people should let the cat that's lived on the streets have a home then your speech just now." 

Steph rolled her eyes at him. "It's cause of our training at the League. Duh," she added jokingly as she acted like normal obnoxious teenage girl that thank God she was not. 

Jason snorted. "Come on. Let's hurry up so I can tell my bed how much I missed it's comfort - unlike some people - before I fall into it." 

\- 

Three in the morning was when the bat mobile (nick-named by Dick, refuted by Bruce, caused amusement for Alfred, used, only in his mind, by Tim) drives into the Cave. 

By this time Tim had finished his third cup of coffee and was steadily working on his fourth which already had made Alfred regret his bargain with him. But there was nothing the British butler could do. 

Dick was the first to step out of the vehicle with such grace in his movements that only talented acrobats or ballerinas possessed. 

Bruce came out of the car without any grace, just with speed, before he started walking towards the main computer, and Tim, with a consistency that was not the speed of a leisurely walk or even jogging pace. 

Tim narrowed his eyes at Bruce as the so called play boy billionaire removed his cowl to reveal his face. 

To most, Bruce's face would be a poker face that was ineffable to be read. 

Tim Drake was not most people. Point being: he was the third Robin. 

Second point: he use to have a habit of secretly taking pictures of Batman and his Robins. (Which, no, he hadn't been stalking them despite Dick jokes.) 

"What's wrong?" Was the first thing out of his mouth. 

"I don't know about him," Dick gestured at Bruce, "but searching every drop of water in the docks for Amazo, the Red Hood and Red X getting away, Bruce still thinking the night is still young even though it's going to be four in the morning in twenty minutes, and learning that Red X has resurfaced for the first time in years in Gotham City only through Alfred instead of either of you. Though not in that order. I'm peachy. You?" 

Tim blinked owlishly; not because of the time but because of Dick's anger. It wasn't often Dick got angry. Well, angry and willing to show how he was feeling. 

It was like Alfred getting sick. Which is to say, rarer than a blue moon or, you know, there being a night in Gotham without any criminal activity. 

It just didn't happen that often. 

Dick must have seen something on Tim's face because a look of regret flashed on the first Robin's face immediately. "I'm sorry," Dick apologized. "It's been a bad night of a bad week." Instead of needlessly specifying why this week was a bad week Dick tried to smile reassuringly at Tim. 

It didn't reach his eyes, Tim noted before taking a sip of his coffee. It had gotten cold, Tim realized with a grimace. 

"Alfred has already prepared your room and got you some normal clothes laid out," Tim told his brother before looking at Bruce. "You both might want to willingly go to bed before Alfred drags you there by your ears," Tim warned them. 

Bruce actually stopped typing on the main computer in the Cave to look over at Tim and raise an eyebrow at his sidekick before the supposed playboy glanced down at the cup in Tim's hands. 

Tim hadn't even bothered to hide the incriminating evidence of his deal with Alfred. Bruce may be Batman but Alfred was Alfred. 

And nothing ever did escape Bruce's notice so there was no point in attempting to hide the coffee instead of drinking it even though it was cold. (How come they had crime fighting technology that caused millions in the Cave but not a microwave?) 

...Except relationship things, Tim realized   
a minute later, than the phrase that came to Tim's coffee fueled mind was, ironically, 'blind as a bat.' Even though there were 1,100 bat species that weren't in fact blin- Tim shook his head, he had more important things to do than correct a phrase he had use to describe Bruce's failure of a love life. 

One of them being: going to bed before Alfred kept his promise and did drag him to bed by his ear. 

Before leaving the Cave, Bruce and Dick (they couldn't say Tim hadn't warned them) behind him Tim couldn't help but glance at Jason's memorial. Maybe it was the four cups of coffee but Tim couldn't ignore the eerie feeling that the glass case gave off tonight. 

Tim shook his head. It had to be the coffee, it being week of Jason's death, and staying up so late on reading the GPD's files on the recently discovered identities of the decapitated drug sellers that were believed to Red Hood and Red X victims that was giving him this bad feeling. 

It just didn't make sense, Tim thought as he dragged his feet to his room. It didn't fit the MO of Red X. Which, given, there were two known Red Xs that had different motives (one of them being Dick himself) it just didn't fit. 

Both Red Xs had never killed anyone before. Neither did partnerships well. The first Red X, Dick, had only created the criminal persona to gain Deathstroke's (at the time he was called Slade) trust and learn the man's motives. It hadn't work. The second Red X didn't do partnerships well either. While the second Red X was a thief he, or she, had helped Dick and the other Teen Titans before. 

Now this Red X was partners with Red Hood, wasn't stealing but was killing, and was trying to control Gotham's drug trade by threatening eight of Gotham's best drug dealers. 

It was like someone had jammed a puzzle piece that belong to another puzzle altogether into Tim's puzzle. 

Or, Tim realized freezing at his door, maybe Tim didn't know how the picture of the puzzle looked all together. Maybe they were all assuming instead of finding out for sure. 

Despite the temptation of running to Dick's room and questioning the former Red X Tim opened his bedroom door before closing it behind him. It could wait tomorrow, otherwise Alfred would drag Tim back into his room by his ear and take away the newly earned coffee privileges. It could most definitely wait till tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) I love Batman: Under the Red Hood but I have two things against it. I would have loved it if Tim had played a bigger role in the comic than he did but the writers sadly didn't do that. Second thing I hated was how Jason never mentions Steph. I'm fixing both these things in my story. Tim will play a major role in this fic. 
> 
> 2.) I'm wrote some family fluff in this chapter because angst (not winter) is coming. 
> 
> 3.) ستيفاني is Steph's name in Arabic and Jason's name in Arabic is جايسون .

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos if you figure out the identity Steph is using because there are hints in this chapter in who she is. Also, how did I do writing from Steph's pov? Did I nail her character or was she too oc?


End file.
